And So It Goes
by suchsmalllhands
Summary: Despite his past mistakes, Jack believes that Pitch is just as important as the rest of them.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.**

_**Pitch**_

It's the silence that gets to him.

He can handle the dark, the loneliness, the mind numbing feeling of being the only one to care about his own existence, but the silence? It cripples him. Curls his body into itself and leaves him hunched and shaking. He needs _it_. The fear, the screams, the cries of others, to fill his ears. Maybe it's wrong, maybe it's sick, but it's the only thing that helps him ignore his own nightmares.

When he hears the footsteps he thinks he's hallucinating and he almost doesn't look. When he hears the sharp intake of breath he still doesn't look. It is only when he feels the chill that he has only ever felt in the presence of a certain white haired boy that he allows his eyes to travel upwards.

_Jack Frost. _

Pitch is almost certain that he could write a book about all the ways he hates Jack Frost. Every time he looks at him he thinks only of the fact that Jack, who had once been as isolated as Pitch, had loathed the idea of his company so much that he had sided with _them_. It makes him sick.

"_Go away_", Pitch hisses.

Jack steps forward and Pitch can see the pity in his eyes. The look of utter sympathy spilling across his face. Pitch's stomach twists. "Pitch-" Jack tries, his voice wavers as he says the single word. Like he can't comprehend the sight laid out before him, and maybe he can't. Pitch knows he must look pathetic, hunched in a ball like he is trying to limit the amount of space he takes up. Trembling like he can't bear the weight of the air around him. He doesn't blame Jack, but it certainly doesn't make him any less annoyed.

'What do you want?" Pitch cuts him off. He doesn't want to hear what Jack was going to say. He doesn't care. "Do you want to gawk? Do you want to point and laugh and run off to tell your friends?" He spits the words out, "Tell them that you've really scared the Boogeyman away?" Pitch can't stop his words anymore than he can stop Jack's measured steps towards him. "Or perhaps you're here to do me in-"

"Pitch, please," Jack pleads, like he's the one who has anything to beg for.

"Well go ahead then," Pitch offers, and really he wouldn't mind, " and then you'll really have a story for the children." He stops then because there's nothing else for him to say. He's strung his words into the air and left them for Jack to scan.

There's a moment and then another where silence is the third occupant in the room. Jack stops walking and Pitch stops _breathing _but their eyes are locked onto each others like they are trying to read one another's minds. Finally Jack exhales and says in voice, quiet and torn, " I never wanted this."

It takes Pitch a moment to process the words, and when he does he laughs.

_He'd never wanted this. _

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**Note: I know that this concept has been done a lot already, but I kind of just wanted to try it myself. Sorry for mistakes (feel free to point them out) and any ooc-ness that may occur in this fic. Feedback would be appreciated. Thanks to anyone who may have read this. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians**

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_**Jack**_

He remembers being alone. Years upon years where the only companion he had was time and the only conversations he had were with the wind. He remembers looking at the moon every night and wondering _why_? Why make him feel so much in those moments after being pulled from the lake, only to rip all of the wonder away and replace it with despair and confusion. He'd searched for attention in the form of pranks and received only scowls and exasperated sighs. He wasn't Jack Frost, The Guardian of Fun, he was Jack Frost the "Absolute Nuisance". For 300 years, he had existed in a state of proverbial limbo with no change in sight and he'd almost been okay with that, almost gotten used to it, but then everything changed. All at once he was s_omething more_ and maybe he hadn't understood what that meant at first, after all the word "guardian" was never one he would have used to describe himself, but he learned. He learned the difference between existing and having a purpose and he learned how to let go of his grudges. He learned how to rely on others and he learned how to fight, both for his sake and the sake of others.

Jack remembers fighting Pitch. He remembers wanting nothing more than for Pitch to disappear and he remembers the feeling of utter triumph when finally, _finally_, they'd defeated him. Jack had never been happier, the kids were safe, the guardians were safe, and Jack had people who believed in him. _Everything_, he'd thought, _was going to be okay_.

Now he can see that not everything_ is_ okay and never has there been more proof of that than the quivering figure of what had once been Pitch Black, The Nightmare King.

Jack isn't so sure that he can call him that anymore.

He knows that this is his fault. He'd turned all of the fear on Pitch and then he'd left even though he_ knew_ what it was like to be alone and unwanted. He'd wanted Pitch to go away, but he'd never wanted to ruin him like this. He'd never wanted to stand across from Pitch and watch him lose himself in his own hollow laughter.

He's going to fix this, _he has to_.

Pitch is still laughing when Jack finds his voice again,"Pitch, you- I can help you". He's not sure how to help Pitch and he's not sure that he can, but if he doesn't try he'll never really know. There has to be something more to Pitch, something decent, at least.

He's met with silence but he can see Pitch trying to make sense of the words. He can wait, he knows, he's had years to get used to silence and he can wait for Pitch's answer. He doesn't wait nearly as long as he'd expected because the words come soon enough, "and if I don't want your help?"

Jack's hands tighten around his staff, he'd expected this response, "I'll leave. I won't tell anyone that you're here. You can be alone in peace." It's a joke really, the thought of being peacefully alone. Sure you can adjust and maybe even find comfort in it, but sooner or later it gets to you and then it never stops. He knows that Pitch really has no choice at all, either way he's about to set himself down a path that leads to potential disaster, but Jack would like to think that Pitch has a better chance with him than with no one at all.

Pitch must know this as well because he laughs again. This laugh is more defeated than the last, like he's accepting or trying to accept that the lesser of two evils comes in the form of accepting help from someone who was once (and still is) his enemy. "Well, Jack Frost, you can certainly try."

It's not a yes, but it's not a no. Jack isn't entirely sure what either of them are doing, but he does know that they are both reaching for something that is beyond themselves. Maybe, just maybe, there is hope for them yet.

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**I apologize if my Jack is bad. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with him, I just knew that I wanted his perspective on the situation. Thanks for reading. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** **I do not and will never own ROTG**

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_**Pitch**_

He can recall a time when he'd believed or perhaps hoped, that forming an alliance with Jack Frost would be for the better. He'd been intrigued by the concept of mixing cold and darkness, because really, they go hand in hand and more than that he'd been enraptured by the thought of having a companion. A companion who'd share his ideals and loathe the guardians for all of the brilliance and happiness that loomed over their shoulders. Each of their believers had mocked him with their undying support for the _faultless_ four. He'd wanted one, just one (and then he'd work on the rest), to look upon him with the respect and fear that he'd deserved. He'd once thought that Jack would be the one. He was young and he knew what it was like to be ignored by the world and all of its people. Yet Pitch had made the mistake of thinking that Jack Frost could be easily manipulated and he had paid for it dearly.

Now he has Jack Frost in the worst of ways and he can't decide if it's the situation or the way that Jack has been pacing circles into the ice slicked ground for the past 5 minutes that is making him tired. His shoeless feet slap relentlessly against the floor, like he's trying to batter his thoughts into the ground. Pitch thinks he might want to batter Jack into the ground if he keeps this up."Would you _stop?"_

Jack's head snaps up, his eyes settling on Pitch. There is a moment when he looks at Pitch like he's forgotten he was there and in turn forgotten the desperate deal they'd just formed. Then the confusion falls from his eyes and a smile rises in its place. _A smile,_ like they are _friends_, like Pitch has only just been_ teasing_ him. His anger flairs like a candle, soft and steady, as it occurs to him that to Jack Frost, this must be nothing but a game. He knows before the thought can properly form that he will not let himself be used a source of amusement. He may be a medley of unfavorable things, but he is not and will never be a toy. _One chance,_ he decides, _he will give Jack one chance to deliver on his promise._

_He doesn't think about what he'll do if Jack's intentions are less than honest or what he'll do should their inevitable failure arise. He doesn't want to think of the years of solitude he will have to contend before he can find it within himself to try and rise again. He doesn't-_

"Sorry," and the smile is there in his voice "I was just thinking." He shifts that ridiculous staff of his around and offers a shrug.

"Share then," Pitch demands because as much as he doesn't particularly care about what Jack Frost thinks about, he also isn't to keen with the thought of Jack thinking about him without his knowledge.

Jack's smile leaves and he looks to be about as serious as one could expect from said individual." I was thinking that I'm good at having fun, and you're good at scaring people," Pitch knows exactly where Jack is going and already he knows that he is doomed, " it can be a good combination, you know."

"Oh yes," Pitch drawls, and he sounds so calm even though his thoughts are screaming, "and then I can be the the guardian of haunted houses and scary movies". He'd known, always known that he was meant to give in or give up. Giving in meant being something less than what he wanted to be and giving up meant years upon years of isolation. Giving up meant that stupid lingering hope that told him maybe, maybe, maybe, if he just tried one last time he'd make it.

"That's not what I meant," _but it's the truth_," I just think it would be a good start"

"Do you know what happens, Jack? When the children are done being spooked? They laugh it off, they forget about it, they stop caring and they stop believing and _that's it"_.

Pitch has laughed twice since Jack Frost came to visit, both times tired and humorless, and now it is Jack who laughs, but his is _real_. His shoulders shake, his lips curl, and his eyes are bright. When he finishes his smile is back in place " Just trust me okay?"

Pitch may be the king of nightmares, but never before has one suggested a thought quite as scary as the notion that Jack Frost is one to be trusted.

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**Sorry for the delayed update. Computer troubles. Also I feel like I'm making Pitch moody and I spent a bit of time trying to sort that out. Thanks to anyone who may read this and to those of you who review. I very much appreciate it. **


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